CCXI sociable letters written by the thrice noble, illustrious, and excellent princess, the Lady Marchioness of Newcastle.

CXXXI.

MADAM,

YOu desired me to send you the Sixteen Books I Writ in my Childhood, methinks

they sound like the Twelve Labours of Hercu∣les, only that there are Four Labours more; but though mine were not so Profitable to the World, nor so Difficult to Atchieve, nor so Dangerous in their Encounters, yet you will find my Works like Infinite Nature, that hath neither Beginning nor End, and as Confused as the Chaos, wherein is neither Method nor Or∣der, but all Mix'd together without Separation, like Evening Light and Darkness, so in my Six∣teen Books is Sense and No Sense, Knowledg and Ignorance Mingled together, so that you will not know what to make of it; or in a Low∣er Comparison, you will find every Book like a Frippery, or Brokers-shop, wherein is nothing but Remnants, Bits and Ends of Several things, or like Taylors Shreds, that are not fit for any Use; wherefore I cannot Imagine why you should Desire them, unless out of a Friendship, you will See, and Burn them before I Die, fear∣ing I should Neglect the Sacrificing of them my self, for you are Pleased not only to send for One, but all the Sixteen. But, I suppose, you believe them to be so many several sheets of Pa∣per folded into Quarters, or Half Quarters, as into little Baby-books, for it was in my Baby-years I Writ them, and it had been well they had been no Bigger than Baby-Books, but the least of these Books are two or the Quires of Paper; Neither can you Read them when you have them, unless you have the Art, or Gift to Read Unknown Letters, for the Letters are not

only Unlegible, but each Letter stands so Cow∣ardly from th' other, as all the Lines of your Sight cannot Draw, or Bring them into Words, nay, they will sooner be Torn in pieces; be∣sides, it will Weary your Eye-sight to Move from Letter to Letter, it will be almost as great a Journy for your Eyes, as it was for Coriat's Feet, that Travelled a Foot to Mogorr, I know not whether his Journy Lamed them, but cer∣tainly it Tired them: so will my Books do your Eyes, if they do not quite Blind them, I cannot say, in Reading them, but Endeavouring to Read Scribbles for Letters. Moreover, there are such huge Blots, as I may Similize them to Broad Seas, or Vast Mountains, which in a Si∣milizing Line will Tire your Eyes to Spread to the Circumference, like as for the Feet to Walk to the Top of the Alps; Also there are Long, Hard Scratches, which will be as Bad for your Eyes, as Long, Stony Lanes would be to your Feet; wherefore let me perswade you as your Friend, not Desperately to Venture to Read them, since you can neither receive Profit nor Pleasure in the Labour; were there any Pro∣bability to Increase your Knowledge, or to In∣rich your Understanding, you had some reason to Venture, but you will be so far from Increa∣sing your Knowledge, as you will enter into a vast Wilderness, and Intricate Labyrinth, wherein you will Lose your Patience, and be so far from Inriching your Understanding, as you will Impoverish your present Memory;

and let me tell you, that my Sixteen Books will be as Tedious, Troublesome, and Dangerous, to your Understanding, as the Dry, Deep, Sandy, Barren Deserts of Arabia to Travellers, and so thick a Mist of Nonsense, and Clouds of Ig∣norance will fly in the face of your Understand∣ing, that it will not only Blind it, but be apt to Smother it, not otherwise than the Clouds, or Hills of Sand, that Fly, and Blind, and some∣times Choak those that pass through those De∣serts. But if no Perswasion will Alter you, but you are Resolved to See them, send me word in your nest Letter, and I will send them to you, although much against the will of

Your faithful Friend and Servant.